


Right After

by red_crate



Series: Harringrove Tumblr ficlets [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon-Typical Behavior, Gen, M/M, Possession, Season/Series 03, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_crate/pseuds/red_crate
Summary: He searches Billy’s face for anything, any sign that there’s something behind his eyes besides a monster.





	Right After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BillyisaBOTTOM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillyisaBOTTOM/gifts).



> This is a prompt fill for billyisabottom on tumblr who sent: “Steve and the party trying to trigger Billy by using his memories.” The fill took a little more than 1,000 words, but I kept it short and ambiguous because it’s the eve of S3 premiere and who knows what will happen. 
> 
> Fair warning: this is not ground breaking imagination, and it’s kinda cheesy.

“You know, I _really_ thought all this shit was over with,” Steve complains as he heaves Billy’s unconscious body from where he’d fallen, moving him into a kitchen chair. “The gate was closed.”

Hopper wraps rope around Billy’s waist quickly while Steve holds the other boy in place. Billy’s skin is clammy and cold, and Steve grimaces when his mind thinks _death_. He lifts his palms so only his finger tips are pressed along Billy’s shoulders. The feel of bone beneath the thin skin stretched over Billy’s clavicles is a little too real.

Oblivious to Steve’s internal struggle, Hopper grunts, “Yeah, kid, I know. But obviously something fucked up.”

That’s the scariest part of this all. Not even the adults know what the fuck is going on. The movies—when they’re about kids going on adventures and battling cosmic monsters—are all about kids versus adults. One side always knows how to fix the problem. But no one here, not the kids or the adults or even the government, know what’s _wrong_ , what’s going to happen. No one knows how to stop it.

They thought they stopped it.

Hopper gets Billy tied up good on the chair, bites off the duct tape he uses to bind Billy’s wrists and ankles so he can’t lash out. When Steve steps back, Billy’s head is lolling to the side in his sleep.

“What now?” He looks away from the matted curls and soft mouth to Hopper who has lit up a cigarette as they both survey their hostage.

Exhaling a stream of blue smoke that curls up to the bare bulb hanging above their heads, Hopper shrugs, “Crank up the heat.”

* * *

Steve doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that most the kids are still here. Maybe they should have gone with Nancy and Jonathan to check out the school after El said something about it, but Max wasn’t leaving the house. If Max wasn’t leaving then Lucas wasn’t leaving and so on and so forth. But there’s some serious shit going on with Billy. When Joyce ushered Will out the door and into the back of Jonathan’s car with her arm tight around his shoulders, Steve had been relieved.

One possessed guy was bad enough without fear of Billy triggering whatever gunk might still be hanging out in the back of Will’s head.

“Why are we doing this? We don’t actually want to save that asshole, so we?” Dustin slams his palms down on the kitchen table. He shoots a look over at Max. “No offense.”

Steve watches Max roll her eyes, but she says, “If we don’t, he’s going to be a lot worse.”

Clearly fed up and overwhelmed, Hopper tells them all to shut up. He paces along the linoleum floor. “This is not good. Your mindflayer,” he waves a hand in the air at the lot of them, “has got a hold of that boy in there, and we need to get him back before he’s completely gone.”

Steve pictures the gnarled black veins stretching up Billy’s forearm and bicep, wonders if it isn’t too late anyway. Will never had anything like that.

Hopper continues, “Max, you’re going to have to talk to him first.”

Steve shoots a look a Hopper. “First? What? You think any of us are going to be able to pull him back?” It’s depressingly laughable.

Max looks pissed at that, but Steve knows he’s right.

He says, “The only thing any of us are going to be able to wake in him is anger and hate, man.” When he says it, his chest feels tight as sympathy winds through him. It’s the truth, but it doesn’t feel _right_.

Mike takes a deep breath. “We have to try.”

* * *

When it’s Steve’s turn, he isn’t ready. He’s heard the yelling and seen the flicker lights. He’s heard the silence and seen the defeated look on everyone but Max’s face. Even Hopper looks two seconds away from giving up. The only thing that seems to be holding him together is defiance against his town being turned upside down and sheer force of will.

Steve curls his hand tightly around the grip of his bat, but keeps the weapon down as he closes the door to the shed. It’s so eerily similar to the last time, with Will strapped to the seat instead of Billy. There is less frantic desperation this time, however.

If you could literally feel what anger is, Steve thinks the feeling he gets standing in this room would be it. Hell, maybe it is. The heat Hopper cranked up with space heaters probably helps the illusion. Maybe that’s a side effect of Billy being possessed by a giant sci-fi creature that’s only supposed to exist in the safety of imagination.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Billy calls from where he’s slumped in the metal chair. “Come to say hello?”

Steve shivers at the words and the rumble of Billy’s voice. It’s not Billy though. Not really.

He circles around Billy and tries to project an air of confidence. “Steve,” he reminds Billy, “but thanks for the compliment. It’s nice to know even when you’re mind is all fucked up you can still make a dumbass joke.”

Billy lifts his head and follows Steve’s movement with his eyes. They’re bloodshot and too shiny in the yellow light. He bares his teeth. “Steve.”

“I can’t do this,” he mutters to himself, pushing a hand back through his hair. He feels completely useless right now. Louder, however, he asks, “Are you seriously going to let that thing in your head control you?”

Billy doesn’t answer. His expression is mostly blank. Even when he’d taunted Steve, his face lacked the usual animation and excitement.

He’s spent the last forty minutes thinking about what he should say—what memories he should use to try and get Billy to snap out of it. They weren’t _close_ though. They hadn’t shared very much more than fist falls and hurtful words. While everyone else had been taking their turns, Steve had slipped into Billy’s bedroom to look for anything that could help.

Now, Steve decides to put his flimsy plan into action. He crouches down so he’s at eye level with Billy. He makes sure to keep enough distance between them so Billy can’t head-butt him.

The corners of the photo are worn and a little frayed from too much handling. He looks at the subject again before holding it up so Billy has no choice but to see it.

“This your mom?” Steve glances from Billy’s grey eyes to the back of the photo where a name and date are scrawled along the bottom in blue ink. “You look a lot like her.”

Billy’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything.

Steve pulls the photo back so he can look at the blonde woman leaning against the car Billy drives now. She’s got a wide, carefree smile on her face. Billy is curled next to her waist, maybe thirteen years old. He isn’t smiling, but he’s looking up at her like he was about to ask a question.

“You miss her, right?” Steve snorts as he shakes his head. His hand hangs with the other between his legs. “Stupid question. But come on, I bet you have a hundred or a thousand memories of her you think about daily. Do you think she would want this for you?”

He waits and tries to let the question sink in. He knows he’s making cheap shots here, but he doesn’t really have anything better to offer. The moment makes him think about Barb’s parents tough—about how they sold their house to finance keeping their hope for answers alive. Steve only knows bad shit about Billy’s dad, but he constructs a version of Billy’s mom in his head based on what any kid _should_ have and that happy smile captured on film.

Steve drops to his knees and scoots just a little closer on the dirty floor.

“Don’t let yourself go, man. You’re better than that. She’d want you safe and happy, not tied up in a shed with everyone you know scared of you.” Steve itches to ground himself somehow.

Billy isn’t focused on him, looking through Steve to some middle distance. Steve wonders what he sees.

He sighs heavily. This is pointless. Maybe Nancy and Jonathan have found a more promising lead. Sweat trickles down the back of Steve’s neck.

“Billy,” he says quietly, hopelessly. “Come on. I’d rather you call me names and try to beat the shit out of me than this.”

He searches Billy’s face for anything, any sign that there’s something behind his eyes besides a monster. “You aren’t a monster. Like, I don’t know if you really have any control over this thing. But if you’re letting it take over because you think that’s all you deserve?”

Steve feels foolish. He shoots a look over at the door and where it’s still closed. He says, “I want you back to the cocky asshole who gave me and the party a hard time, who thought he was too cool for us all. You probably are.” Steve lets out a hollow laugh. “But if you’d just come back we could start over. I don’t want to be your enemy. I never did, man.”

Billy’s eyes flicker, ghost over Steve with some intelligence for the first time all night. He sees recognition in Billy’s eyes.

Steve gives in to his need to touch even though he knows it’s a stupid move. He curls a hand above the duct tape around Billy’s calf. It’s bare—he’s only wearing his red swim trunks from the pool still. Steve rubs his thumb up and down the skin there, trying to rub away the somehow cold and hot feel to his skin.

“You gotta fight it. Use all that strength you got inside. Come back.” Emotion clogs up Steve’s throat suddenly.

None of this is right. It shouldn’t be happening all over again and it shouldn’t be happening like this. There are already too many people involved—too many people who have been hurt. Billy doesn’t deserve this.

Steve bites his lip then pleads, “Come back to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m the-redcrate on tumblr.


End file.
